It's Always You
by pearlydewdrop
Summary: Tom didn't regret it, coming to admire her. There was a time when he had never thought beauty and rebelliousness could coexist, but that was before he saw her, bold as brass, trying to coax her family into a new age...Sybil/Tom Season 1 AU-ish (but not too far fetched to fit into canon)


**It's Always You**

...

_It's you, it's always you_  
_If I'm ever gonna fall in love I know it's gon' be you_  
_It's you, it's always you_  
_Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you_

_~Ali Gatie, It's You _

...

"Papa and Granny were scandalised when I showed up in the drawing room", Sybil recounted with a giggle as she relayed the events of the previous evening play by play to her dearest and truest friend—the family's Irish republican chauffeur, Tom Branson.

Ever since she had first spoken to him that day on the way back from the dressmakers, Sybil had found it so thrilling to have someone with whom she could share the more rebellious and political parts of herself, parts that her very conservative family would only, at best, scoff at and hope she would grow out of.

She loved them, she truly did, but was it really so hard for them to see that the world around them was changing.

And lady or not, Sybil Crawley wanted very much to be a part of that change.

"I'm sure they found your actions very bold, milady", Tom agreed, a twinkle of pride in his eyes that she didn't miss.

Rolling her eyes, Sybil couldn't help but smile at him. "I've told you and told you, Branson. If we're truly to be friends, you must call me Sybil."

Tom smiled, imagining Lord Grantham's expression and Mr Carson's stern words if they heard him, the family chauffeur, call the youngest daughter of the house by her given name, let alone his friend. "Then it's only fair you call me Tom"

She linked her arm playfully with his as they strolled away from the side of the road where they had left behind the motor carriage, that had been taken out for some meaningless non-existent errand, and wandered down a small hill towards the river that ran through the estate.

The water rushed, bubbling and bright-just like he would describe her.

"Apparently a woman wearing trousers is far too risqué for their liking. If only you had been there to see their faces!"

Sybil looked up at him with a huge grin on her face, a skip in her step that he had only seen a handful of times before, including the time they had gone together to hear the liberal candidate speak at a rally about the women's vote. Right now, he could see that same rebellious little bounce in her walk and mischievous but determined glint in her eyes that she had had on her that day in Ripon.

Tom blushed furiously at her statement, sheepishly glancing away.

In fact, he had been there at the window when she had showcased her scandalous harem pants to her family and even though he had come to simply marvel at her act of rebellion, it didn't make him feel like any less of a 'Peeping Tom' (excuse the pun) for doing so.

Tom didn't regret it though, coming to admire her. There was a time when he had never thought beauty and rebelliousness could coexist in such harmony, but that was before he saw her, bold as brass, trying to coax her family into a new age.

_Sweet Jesus, he had it bad...and for an English Lady no less. _

"I'm afraid I was there, Milady. Outside the window", he confessed, feeling brave. Besides, Tom knew it would be damn near impossible to lie to her and if he was being honest with himself, it was not something he could ever imagine wanting to do anyway.

Sybil grinned mischievously, completely unsurprised by his admission. She had seen him after all, watching her with a look of approval, surprise, admiration and, dare she say, desire.

_(Even the thought made warmth pool in the pit of her stomach.) _

"You didn't come to see Papa or Granny's reactions, did you?", she asked with a mischievous smile, unable to help herself. "So something else clearly must have captured your attention."

Sybil internally berated herself as soon as the words fell from her lips and she flushed scarlet.

_Oh, what an absolute idiot she must sound! _

Trying to act naturally, she willed her cheeks to return to their usual colour and continued to stare challengingly at her friend, hoping beyond hope that she hadn't made a complete fool of herself and ruined their precious companionship.

Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise. _Was she...flirting with him? _

A voice in his head (one that sounded a lot like his Ma back in Ireland) told him to stop, that many an English Lady found amusement in toying with the affections of their workers, only for hearts to be broken and jobs to be lost in the process.

Having found her way deep inside his heart like no one before her, Tom knew that Lady Sybil Crawley could ruin him, truly and completely. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the wonderful, open minded and opinionated young women that stood before him could easily break his heart to smithereens in an instant...either that or her love could make him smile for an eternity.

She was dangerous that way.

How could he not admit his true feelings, even to himself, when she was looking at him the way she was: with admiration and intrigue and longing, her electric blue eyes challenging him to respond.

Tom had never met anyone who he could banter with better than Sybil (their minds a perfect match in every way), so he knew that she probably just expected some light-hearted and teasing retort to her seemingly friendly flirting.

However despite all reasoning, something deep inside him compelled the truth, the real and unfiltered truth, to slip from his tongue and hang thick in the air between them.

"It was you, Sybil", Tom said softly, his brogue thickening with the weight of his confession, gently caressing her given name as he addressed her with it aloud for the first time. "Even in the most crowded of rooms, my darlin'. It's always you."

The sudden burst of happiness, pure and unadulterated exuberance , that she felt upon his admission was fleeting, melting away in mere seconds.

Sybil bit her lip, wanting nothing more than to reply in kind and share her own feelings for Tom...but she caught sight of the towering Abbey, the constant reminder of her family and their age old values that was still lingering in her peripheral vision, despite her and Tom's attempts to drive away for the afternoon to avoid the reality of their situation.

It was true that the world was changing, but would it change fast enough for her and Tom.

Sybil wasn't sure.

"Tom", she said softly, her voice desperate for him to understand.

She wanted to tell him that she felt the same. More than anything, she wanted him know that for her it would always be him...but she couldn't.

Sybil couldn't imagine breaking her mother and father's hearts like that and break their hearts she would if she accepted the love of Tom Branson.

"I can't."

He smiled sadly, reaching out and squeezing her hand.

Theirs was a tricky situation, impossible even, but he wouldn't give up on her, not completely anyway and certainly not when what they shared was so special.

For now though, their hands were tied by the social barriers that kept them painfully, desperately, apart.

"I know."

...

_So, please, don't break my heart_  
_Don't tear me apart_  
_I know how it starts_  
_Trust me, I've been broken before_  
_I'm so scared to fall in love_  
_But if it's you then I'll try_

_~Ali Gatie, It's You_

...

* * *

**Well, this was supposed to be short and fluffy but kinda took a mind of its own towards the end. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last few Sybil and Tom stories. You are all lovely and awesome humans! **

**Talk soon, **

**Pearlydewdrop xx **


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